


Faith & Intuition

by sosser86



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Baby Makes Three, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, Married Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Married Couple, Married Life, Post-Canon, cw: crying baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26777512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sosser86/pseuds/sosser86
Summary: Anathema and Newt struggle with using the "cry it out" method of parenting their newborn. However, the books (and grandmothers) aren't as helpful as they think they are.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #6 "I Had No Idea That Would Happen!"





	Faith & Intuition

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Do-It-With-Style Discord server's Guess the Author event, round 6. The prompt is: "I had no idea that would happen!"
> 
> A warning firsthand: this fic contains the "cry it out" or self-soothing method of leaving a baby to cry alone in their crib when fussy or tired. The idea is that they'll learn to calm themselves down and only cry when it's an emergency. It works for some people, but if you're sensitive to crying babies, please know that Anathema and Newt are new parents and have a lot to learn.

“What does the book say, mi amor?” asked Anathema’s mother.

“There is no  _ BOOK _ anymore, Mom! There’s no prophecy to tell me what to do now!”

“I meant the  _ baby _ book I sent you.”   
  
Anathema’s reply was drowned out by another high-pitched wail from the next room. Sitting beside her on the video call was Newt. The stress and lack of sleep was written in the dark bags under their eyes. Their desperation had reached critical level: asking their mothers for help.   
  
“The book says he’d learn to self-soothe by now!” Anathema’s patience was close to breaking.   
“It will happen. Have some faith,” her mother replied. “I did it with you, and it worked for me. Keep following the advice.” They all said their goodbyes. Anathema waited until the screen was blank and shook her fist towards the camera, and Newt dragged his hands down his stinging eyes and stubbled cheeks.   
  
The phone call with Newt’s mother had been just as frustrating. “Poor wee babby-kins,” she had said. Anathema was glad her mother-in-law couldn’t see her grinding her teeth. The last thing she needed was another guilt trip. Newt could see her, though, and made sure to hold the phone further away. “What does his doctor say? Is he alright?”   
“He’s fine, Mum,” Newt answered. The wavering scream from behind the door said otherwise, however. “He’s just having a bit of trouble adjusting, that’s all.” (Anathema was about to say that ‘ _ trouble’ _ was an understatement).“He won’t seem to settle down to sleep, and we can’t figure out why.”    
  
Every night had been hell for the past week. They’d lay their baby down at 8pm, and wait it out while he supposedly ‘learned’ to cry himself out and would fall into a regular sleep pattern. In reality, their infant son’s desperate crying drove them up the wall all night, until all three of them collapsed in exhaustion, only to repeat it again the next night.   
  
“Well just keep trying,” his mum tried to sound encouraging. “It will work eventually.”   
“Keep trying  _ WHAT?! _ ” Anathema grumbled, unable to sit quietly. “Nothing works!”   
His mum chuckled, “Babies don’t come with manuals, petal.”   
“No shit, Marion,” she replied archly. Newt quickly wrapped up the phone call by sending both their love (and apologies) before the Apocalypse happened again between his mum and his wife, which he knew he couldn’t disarm.   
  
Another lusty cry came from across the hallway. Newt and Anathema looked at one another in a silent agreement. They entered the nursery, Anathema scooped up her baby into her arms and patted his back. “It’s ok, Mama’s here,” she cooed and shushed. Newt kissed his son’s head and stroked his dark hair. Eventually his cries decreased into sobs, to hiccups, to blessed, content silence.   
“I think he’s asleep,” Newt whispered.   
“I had no idea that would happen so quickly!” Anathema whispered “This is the last time a book runs our lives."

"I know," he said, and they shared a loving kiss.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
